“What? No hi, sis, you okay?” I keep my voice light, hide the pain of his disregard.
Dustin ignores my question, and goes on with his own. “And don’t tell me you “sensed” her.” Dustin has never been supportive of my abilities. Even though he’s seen them work first hand, even uses them when needed, he’s always skeptical and rude about it.
I can be rude, too. “Well, Detective McAllister, if you prefer, Jet found her.”
“Jet? As in Grandma’s dog? He’s here?”
“He came along for the ride when I dropped the clothes off. He ran into the woods and came back with her panties.”
Dustin runs his hand through his short brown hair and sighs. “Panties?”
“Yep. Then I followed him into the woods and we found her. And the baby,” I add. I realize I’m making light of the situation, being purposefully flippant. But Dustin’s attitude gets under my skin.
“Jet led you to her?”
I shrug one shoulder.
Dustin rolls his eyes.
Lucas stiffens, annoyed by my brother.
“The important thing is you found them,” Lucas says evenly. “And they’re both alive.”
My flippant mood disappears. “They’ll be okay, right?” my voice quiet.
“Too soon to tell, but, they’re better off than before you found them.”
The three of us fall silent as the ambulances pull out, full lights and sirens, rushing to the hospital. I say another prayer for their safety as they drive away.
“Can you show us where you found them?” Dustin asks politely, back to being a cop and not a snotty brother.
“Sure.” I pull myself up heavily, using the handrail for support.
Lucas helps me to my feet.
“Thanks,” I give Dustin a pointed look. “Just a little dizzy from the shock. It’s mostly passed now.” We crunch across the gravel parking lot towards the woods. “Where’s Jet?” I ask suddenly.
“You mean wonder dog?” Dustin asks.
“He’s in your car. The medics put him there for you,” Lucas answers.
Jet stands against my car window, his front feet on the door, his tongue hanging out. I open the door and give him a pat. “Good boy, Jet,” I say.
“Leave the dog,” Dustin commands.
“Sorry, Jet. Big brother says no. Stay here a bit, and I’ll take you home.”
Jet whines when I shut the door. “This way,” I say to the men.
We make an interesting trio crunching through the woods. Two cops in full uniform and gear, and me in leggings and a sweater. The sun shines high in the sky, forming pools of dappled light on the ground. The brightness does nothing to chase the October chill. Goosebumps tingle my arms, and I wish I had my jacket. It rode away in the ambulance with the baby. A sacrifice I’m more than happy to make.
“She was tucked up in here, under this leaning log,” I point to the spot.
“A little bit of shelter,” Lucas says. “Why didn’t she just go to the church?”
“I think she was trying to get there, but couldn’t make it,” I say quietly, thinking of the terror she must have felt.
Dustin squats near the tree. “The leaves are moved around, and there’s blood and fluid stains.”
“She must have delivered the baby right here,” Lucas says. “Man, I can’t imagine.”
“Why would a young woman be stabbed in the back, bound, and then deliver a baby in the woods? It doesn’t make sense. Did you get anything from her?” Dustin looks directly at me, startling me with his question.
“You’re actually asking for my help?”
Dustin takes his time standing up, stares at me for a long moment with his deep brown eyes, deciding how to reply. I brace myself for the sharp words.
Lucas saves him from answering. “Someone tried to murder a pregnant girl. If you can help us find out what happened that would be great.” I’d rather hear the words from Dustin, but I’ll take it.
“I didn’t get much from her.” I leave out the part where I was too terrified to touch her and didn’t take off my glove to get a clear reading. “I only touched her for a moment. All I got was names. Addlynn, Jeanette, Claire, Margaret.”
“Four first names and no last name?” Lucas asks.
“Maybe one of them is her last name. I don’t know.”
“Not much to go on,” Dustin points out. “Which one’s her name?”
“All of them, I think. I’m sorry, I should have gotten more, but I….”
“You did fine, Gabby. It had to be a shock finding her,” Lucas says.
“I did get something off the panties Jet found. Fear, pain and desperation. That’s what I felt when I touched them. I knew something was wrong.”
“Where are the panties now?” Dustin asks.
“I threw them in the parking lot.” I leave out the part where I screamed.
“You’re sure they’re hers?”
“Who else’s could they be? She must have taken them off to have the baby.”
“Well, we can’t do much more here until the techs arrive. Even then, there’s not much to see. Let’s collect the panties. Maybe we can get something from them,” Dustin says, walking back to the church, leaving Lucas and I behind.
“You look cold,” Lucas says.
“Just a little, its fine.”
“Are you doing okay? It’s been a crazy few weeks for you. And now this.” He nods to the small tree shelter.
I shrug and force a smile to my face. “Hanging in. I have nightmares occasionally, but I’m pretty good.”
“I suppose nightmares are to be expected.” He toes the leaves where I found her, pretending to look for clues.
I rub my cold arms nervously. “I never did thank you,” I venture.
“For what?” Lucas keeps his eyes on the ground.
“For saving my life, and for after.”
Lucas looks off through the woods, avoiding my eyes. The sun glints on his dark hair, cut so short I can see his scalp beneath.
“Don’t you dare say it was just part of your job,” I warn, anger beginning to bubble.
Lucas finally looks me in the eye. “Protecting you is my job. But it’s also my pleasure.” His eyes crinkle at the corners. “Anything for a friend, right?” He adds.
I open my mouth to respond.
“Hartley,” Dustin yells to his partner, shattering the moment.
I shut my mouth again, not sure what I’d intended to say.
Lucas snaps back into cop mode and hollers back. “Did you find something?”
Without another look at me, Lucas hurries off.
I stand alone where the girl was alone last night.
Chapter 4
Grandma Dot
People don’t realize the power a beautician really has. Barbara’s rudeness to Gabriella stings, but she isn’t the first customer to treat her like that, and she won’t be the last.
Still, I hesitate the smallest moment while choosing what chemicals to use on her hair. I could bleach it and put her under the dryer and make her hair fall out, or I can color over it and make her a pretty sandy blonde. I itch to bleach it away, make her pay for her rudeness, but I grab the color instead. If I purposely ruined the hair of every person who annoyed me, I’d have gone out of business a long time ago.
“Everyone’s talking about Gabby and that killer,” Barbara says from the salon chair, oblivious to how close she came to losing her hair. Depending on her next words, she still might.
“She’s amazing isn’t she?” I test her.
Barbara hesitates, and I wait, I can still switch bottles. “A little scary, but amazing,” Barbara concedes. I apply the color and Barbara’s hair will live another day.
Soon, Barbara leaves with a lovely shade of light brown. Not the platinum she wanted, but much better than the brassy color she walked in with. She breezes out of the shop with a smile and a wave.
I lock the door behind her. Saturdays are hit and miss whether I’m open or not.
A benefit of age means I can do what I want. I switch off the open sign and stare out the window down the empty road.
Gabriella and Jet should have been back a long time ago.
“Staring at the road won’t bring them home sooner,” I mutter and turn out the shop lights.
I make a cup of tea, and I start a load of laundry. They’re still gone.
The house feels empty without Jet.
I can’t keep my eyes off the window facing the road.
“She’s fine,” I say to the walls. “Stop worrying. This isn’t like last time.”
I want to call her, to check on her. I want to hear her voice. I leave my phone on the counter un-touched. I don’t want to smother her.
Fear niggles the back of my neck.
To keep my hands busy, I make Gabriella’s favorite, Rice Krispy treats with extra butter and extra marshmallows.
I look out the window. I think of calling. I keep mixing the treats.
The pan of treats are finished and waiting on the counter.
The laundry is folded on the table.
Gabriella and Jet still aren’t home.
I give into the fear and grab my cell. “I don’t care if she thinks I’m smothering her.” Jet isn’t here, so I talk to no one.
Before I can place the call, tires crunch on the gravel.
It’s her Charger.
I place the phone gently back on the counter.
My eyes mist with the relief only a parent or grandparent can understand.
She’s safe.
I splash water on my face and dry it with a kitchen towel. I push my fear back where it belongs. I force a smile and relax my shoulders so I don’t look worried.
The fear still niggles my neck.
One look at her face as she enters the kitchen and the fear rears to life.
I want to scream What happened? Are you okay? Who hurt you?
Instead, I hold onto my calm. “I made you Rice Krispy Treats,” I say evenly.
Gabriella flops into a stool at the kitchen bar. Takes a treat and munches silently. She didn’t even take off her gloves like she normally would, not a good sign.
I gather Jet into my arms, breath into his fur. His familiar scent is mixed with the smell of leaves. Leaves? I don’t ask the question out loud. She’ll tell me when she’s ready.
“Were you a good boy, Jet?” I ask the dog instead. “Didn’t get into trouble, did you?”
“More like he saved the day,” Gabriella finally breaks her silence.
I lean against the sink across the bar from her. “You saved the day?” I ask the dog, faking a happy tone. “What did you do?”
“Can I have some tea?” she asks. “These are great by the way.”
I put on the teapot. Then I lose my patience.
“Gabriella, are you going to tell me what happened or not?”
“You know I am, just give me a minute.” She leans back on her stool and closes her eyes. She looks so young, so innocent. To me she’s still the child Emily brought home from the hospital, the child who followed me around the garden helping pick weeds, the child that replaced my own when she was taken from me.
But Gabriella isn’t a child anymore, no matter how much I wish for it.
She feels me staring and opens her eyes. “We dropped the clothes off at the church.”
I busy myself with making her tea, giving her space to tell her story.
“Jet ran off. Only for a moment,” she quickly adds. “He came back with something in his mouth. It was a pair of panties. When I touched them I felt something bad happened. So Jet led me into the woods. Well, Jet and my tattoo.”
My fear for her grows stronger. I almost want her to stop talking, don’t tell me what happened. I want it to have not happened to her at all.
“We found a young woman in the woods. She was stabbed, bound, laying on her side curled into a ball. I thought she was dead.” Her voice had been flat and emotionless until this point. Now it wavers. “She had a baby with her. She obviously gave birth to him last night. He cried, and she moved to protect him.”
“She was alive?” Jet fusses to be put down. As soon as his feet hit the floor, he goes to Gabriella.
“Barely.”
“And the baby was okay?”
“He was crying when I gave him to the medics. He’s a strong little guy.” The faintest smile crosses her features.
“Then what?” I finish making her tea, and hand her the steaming cup.
She takes a sip, then continues. “Lucas and Dustin came. The woman and the baby were taken in the ambulance. I showed the guys where we found her. And that’s about it.”
Knowing Gabriella the way I do, I know she left some things out.
“Did you touch her?”
She nods and hangs her head.
“And?”
“I didn’t see anything. Just four names. Addlynn, Jeanette, Claire, Margaret.”
Something turns over in the back of my mind, some buried memory. When I try to focus on it, it skitters away.
“I didn’t see anything useful,” she cries suddenly. “What is the point of this curse if I can’t use it for good?” The flat, emotionless voice breaks completely.
I hurry around the bar and put my arms around her. She trembles against my chest, once again the child I remember.
“You saw what you needed to see,” I soothe. “I know it doesn’t make sense now, but it will.”
She shakes her head against me. “None of this makes sense.”
“It will.” I force certainty into my voice because she needs to hear it.
She sniffles in response, and I let her go, try another tack.
“Roll up your sleeve.” I’m not sure where I’m going with this, but she obeys.
“Do you remember when you got this?” I touch the cross tattooed on her left inner forearm.
“Of course. You said I was too young, but I insisted.”
“What you actually said is ‘I don’t know why I need it, Grandma, but I do. It doesn’t make sense, but I know it will someday. Trust me.’ Do you remember that part?”
She smiles bashfully. “I really wanted it. I would have said anything to get it.”
“True, but you were right. It didn’t make sense at the time, but it sure makes sense now. All of this ‘curse’ as you called it makes sense in some cosmic way. Trust that. Trust this.”
I kiss the tip of my finger and place it on her tattoo.
“But how can I help the girl if I didn’t see anything?”
“She’s not gone. She’s at the hospital. Go visit her.”
“She’s fighting for her life right now. Most likely in surgery. I can’t go see her.”
“Then wait until she comes out of surgery. You were drawn to her for a reason. You have to find out what the reason is.”
Gabriella stares into her teacup as if the answers hide in the liquid. “I’m scared,” she whispers. “I was scared in the woods today. I didn’t even take off my glove when I touched her. I didn’t want to see how she died. I don’t want those memories.”
We sit in silence. I know she wants a profound answer from me, some nugget of truth to guide her. The truth is I don’t want her to see what she has to see, to have those memories, to feel those evil things. I want to protect her from them.
But I know God has other plans and part of his plan is making her go.
“Life is full of hard choices. That is reality. We just have to suck it up and do what we need to. You can give into your fear, go home and hide and not pursue this. But that girl went through hell to get to a place where you could find her. She needs you. So does that baby.”
Gabriella makes her decision. She chugs down the last of her tea and slams the cup down on the counter. She stands up, straight and sure.
“You’re right. She needs me.” She looks at the pan of Rice Krispy Treats. “Can I take these with me?”
“I made them for you.” I cover the pan with foil and slide it across the coun
ter to her. “I want my pan back.”
“You just want a reason for me to have to come home.”
“Always.”
She digs under the foil and takes out another treat. “One for the road.” She plants a kiss on my cheek. “I’m going to go now, before I lose my nerve.”
“You’ll be fine. You always are.”
The fear still niggles my neck as I watch my grand-daughter pull out of the driveway. “I hope I did the right thing, Jet.” I say to the dog.
He doesn’t hear me. He’s fast asleep in his bed, worn out from his long day.
Chapter 5
Gabby
Fueled by Grandma’s words, and her tea, and a heavy dose of sugar from the treats, I feel strong and sure of myself as I pull into River Bend Regional Hospital. I strut across the asphalt to the doors of the ER, hold my chin up high.
The sliding glass doors to the ER open before me and I stop. My confidence wavers. I take a step back from the doors, and they slide shut again, my reflection clear in the glass.
What am I doing here? I’m not family, they won’t let me see her. I don’t even know if she’s still alive.
I move, and the doors slide open again, inviting me to walk through them. I freeze in indecision. The doors slide shut with a soft whoosh.
Maybe I should just go home. Take a hot bath and let someone else worry about the girl. That’s Lucas and Dustin’s job, not mine.
My tattoo tingles.
“Traitor,” I say to my arm. I step to the door, not hesitating. The glass panels slide open just in time for me to walk through.
The ER waiting room is quiet, nothing like the ERs they show on TV. The larger trauma hospital in Fort Wayne gets more patients, is often packed, but this ER mostly gets breaks and accidents and nervous parents.
A mother and a little girl sit in the waiting area, folded paper towels pressed tight against the girl’s arm.
An older man on the far side of the room leans back in his chair, his arms crossed on his chest. His head leans against the pale brown wall, forcing his ball cap askew. As I watch, his eyelids grow heavy and he dozes. A split second later, he jerks awake, looks around to see if anyone caught him sleeping. He catches my eye and I smile. He tips his head against the wall again and continues waiting.
Message in the Fire Page 3